


Cry for Help

by hearmyvoice



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Miraculous, Gen, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Non-Graphic Smut, Underage Prostitution
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-09
Updated: 2019-10-09
Packaged: 2020-10-13 12:10:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20582282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hearmyvoice/pseuds/hearmyvoice
Summary: The only thing Marinette wanted was to go out, have a normal life like any girl her age. Why had everything had to change without her noticing?





	Cry for Help

Marinette didn't know exactly how she ended up in that situation.

She had always believed that it was a product of her awkwardness and a huge dose of bad, bad luck, and that she had not really been sold to the mafia by her own family at such a young age.

But she knew she couldn't keep fooling myself, it wasn't healthy to live in a fantasy world where everything went well and she recognized it. She could not live in a world where simply shouting for a non-existent miraculous ladybug would return her to her parents.

But she had to accept it: it was better than that reality, the one in which he completed her second year at the brothel and was about to turn fifteen.

And one would believe that after such a long time of torture and loss of sanity, the young French-Chinese had already become accustomed to this establishment, but the truth was that she still does not acquire so much psychological strength.

It was not easy, it was not easy to be the youngest of the place and therefore the most coveted by the most morbid. It was not easy to tolerate inappropriate touching or harsh attacks, especially if they were not agreed upon. It was not easy to take advantage of the few moments of loneliness to cry because someone different entered her room, ready to continue torturing her.

It was not easy to continue when she lived in that unhappiness. No one in that place had enough empathy or even impudence to have a little pity.

As soon as she ate with miserable portions, the water was so poorly purified that she still wondered how it had not made her sick to her stomach.

Or as that had not killed her. She would have honestly preferred that alternative.

Especially when there were _clients_ with enough cynicism to drug her, the depressives hindering her more than usual so that they could meet their needs without a weeping girl begging them to stop, thus silencing supplications and unidirectional cries that only increased her torture.

But of all the clients, she would never have imagined that Gabriel Agreste was crossing the porch of the night establishment.

Who could blame her. Before being sold, all she wanted to learn was sewing to make her own clothes, blinded by the childish desire to become a world-renowned fashion designer such as her idol.

Maybe one day she could design the clothes of the next photo shoots of Adrien, the only son of the designer and the best-known young model in Paris. That, if she even managed to leave.

The news of Gabriel's wife's disappearance had been a tendency in recent months, or that was what his keen sense of hearing allowed her to know when she was escorting, so Marinette couldn't really blame him for wanting to quench his instincts.

They were human, and even she had seen herself masturbating in her solitude—or when a client asked for it for the cost of a larger tip—on more than one occasion, invaded by a lust unable to explain; but never induced by what was practically a rape, before dead than giving in to the treatment and touching of men and women she did not know.

But what led someone as well known and respected as he to illegality? What was he doing in a place where he knew that, when discovered, would mark his reputation for the rest of his life?

Particularly, Marinette knew how fragmented his relationship with Adrien was, the boy she remembered as new at school before setting foot in that horrendous place. How would this affect it? How would this affect Adrien?

Or maybe she was delirious, a product of her desperate desire to see the sunlight again.

"Dupain-Cheng, shut up at once!" Whips against the bare back to the sound of a scream that sounded mostly to a bark startled the teenager while gnashing due to the burning.

All this time was thinking out loud?

"Yes, you did. Now concentrate that your turn began five minutes ago" sharply adapting Marinette's streaks of raven hair, the big woman did not have the decency to ask before adjusting the neckline and adjusting the corset, touching blatantly, and on more than one occasion, the growing breasts of the girl, "now go and captivate those people, thay you support from that."

Marinette sighed heavily, before going on stage and being presented with her companions. She knew that her red dress with black polka dots was bold, but she couldn't feel more uncomfortable when the audience began to cheer. She felt her face redden, involuntarily giving her a more adorable appearance that attracted more people's attention, including that of some of the escorts that accompanied her.

She breathe heavily. She wasn't ready, she was never ready, but as she was reminded, she ate from that even if it was scarce, and she started.

She could feel hands brushing her legs, hips and even buttocks, and she could feel that his shivers were notorious—as well as the consequent claims of her bosses for such daring insubordination.

Of the multiple rules that the employee had to comply with, was to demonstrate satisfaction with touching. After all, they showed that she was loved and appreciated despite her youth. But she couldn't help it.

She didn't want her sex life to be that insane. Maybe it will sound like a fairy tale, but she had always dreamed of finding true love, having two, no, three children, a dog, and a hamster. Maybe it will sound very childish, but she had always dreamed that way.

Maybe she should live in that fantasy world? That way she would cry less while doing her duty, maybe that way the customers would be more satisfied, she would have a bigger tip, less complaints, and especially less bruises and scrapes.

"Hey." Marinette looked up and, oh surprise... was the great Gabriel Agreste addressing her? Unlike the pleasure and morbidity that most visitors showed, the designer's features revealed seriousness, almost disinterest "could you come?"

Marinette sighed heavily, rubbing her arm nervously.

It was time to work.

"How could I help you, sir?" Speaking in a soft voice, she gave the most falsely sweet smile that constant numbness in her cheeks had allowed her for more than a year.

"Aren't you a little young to work here?" With a smile, the girl watched the way Gabriel adjusted his glasses. "How old are you?"

This must be the most bizarre dream in the world, she thought blinking rapidly. In all that time, no one had ever wanted to know details about her, more focused on satisfying their darkest desires.

"Um... fourteen years, sir?" And that was what she had to give away from the way she dragged the letters, unnoticed over the concentrated expression of the man and the brightness of surprise in his eyes.

"The same age range of Adrien and Kagami," he murmured at a very low volume, enough so that the nervous, confused escort would not hear him, humming in concentration when he sensed the makeup on the arms of the lady—the fashion design and fourteen, almost fifteen years of fatherhood had trained his eyesight—and the discomfort in her eyes.

The dress must be really uncomfortable, Gabriel thought. He really hadn't come to been satisfied, his heart and body would always belong to Emilie (may she rest in peace); but he had always had a bad feeling about the place.

Now he understood why. And seeing other escorts, attending perfectly to the clientele, he would not be surprised to see women equal or younger.

He got up from the place, tensing the black-haired girl's shoulders.

"I appreciate your sincerity, miss," he pulled out his wallet, listening to Marinette's confused groan. "For you, take care of it."

The eyes of the Asian-European shone when the handful of bills was presented, being a much larger amount than usual, watching from the corner of the eye how he was going, as quietly as he arrived.

He must be the most ambiguous customer, but hey, she was still there, fine.

As long as she didn't know that Gabriel would put letters in the matter, she would be fine.


End file.
